An Arrow in My Heart
by ShapeShiftersandFire
Summary: She's cold. She's numb. She's watching her own demise at the tip of an arrow fired by her own love. The retelling of a plan that was easier in theory than in practice.


i watched the swan princess for the first time last night and was mildly put off by Odette's lack of reaction at derek trying to kill her. so i did what i do best and rewrote the scene.

* * *

The plan is, misfortune not withstanding, for Odette and Puffin to follow the map's instructions down to lead Derek down to the lake just as darkness begins to fall and the moon begins to rise over the water. The trip itself isn't difficult, although Odette finds following instructions from the air is far different from following them on the ground. What she sees is a sort of two-dimensional image, a picture from the top; the landmarks clearly pointed out on the map by their structures as one would see them from horseback are distorted as she views them from the sky.

Puffin, at least, is skilled in navigation, by some miracle able to translate the images on the map to a follow-able path from the sky. She hasn't admitted yet, though she sure she soon will, that were it not for Puffin, she would be incredibly lost.

Incredibly lost and incredibly confused, she's certain of it. The forest below them looks the same in every direction, even from the air. She can't see a single significant landmark through the trees, and doubts she would even if she was directly over it. And, given this information, she's glad they only have to fly over it to get to the kingdom. They've made it this far and it's nowhere near sunset. They have plenty of time to get there and back before moon rise.

She scans the forest again, this time with a prickle of unease. If she can't see landmarks, she can't see anything else lurking below the treetops. She bobs her head. "We'd better watch out for hunters." Thoughts of Derek flash through her mind-he had always been skilled with a bow and arrow, one of the best in the kingdom. There were others, of course, professionals, who nearly had him matched in skill. She balks at the thought of meeting any of them as she currently is.

Puffin huffs, lifting his head in pride and gliding upward in such a way that Odette is convinced it's that very pride that keeps him afloat when his wings cannot. "At ease, Odette," he says with an unintentionally-dismissive chuckle, "I can smell humans from a mile away-"

And as she thinks that, having been a swan for nearly thirty nights now, Puffin boasts more than he realizes, for a bird's sense of smell leaves something to be desired in the wake of the predators, the canines and felines and the foxes. She has no time to say as much, as an arrow bolts upward, narrowly missing Puffin. In its wake is a line of missing feathers up his chest and a bare patch just below his eye. He panics mid-flight, nearly stops flying, at the same time that her mind races, her heart pounds, she has no time to think how lucky he is to be alive, whether that arrow was intentional or stray. And her own fear persists, in the swiftest of moments, before she hears a familiar voice calling and equally familiar name.

Bromley's voice echoes through the woods and into the skies; Odette has learned today that swans have relatively acute hearing, though nothing like the owls she hears so frequently at night. " _Derek! Derek!"_

Puffin's missing feathers are suddenly a matter to be concerned with later; the arrow was a stray. She knows for a fact Bromley could never shoot with that kind of accuracy and had it been Derek, Puffin would be falling from the sky with an arrow lodged in his chest.

She dives, her heart racing with a new emotion, not fear but joy. _He's here! What luck!_ Puffin isn't far off her trail, insisting she follow the plan they so carefully laid out that very morning. She doesn't listen. She has to see Derek, she has to, and what harm would it do to lead him from here instead of waiting for him to go all the way back to the castle and lead him from there? It's far less flying and far less time wasted waiting. It's easier, it's quicker, and it's now or never.

Odette leaves Puffin trailing in her wake, swerving through tree after tree in search of Derek. Her sight, she notes for the first time as she scans, is remarkably developed, far superior than any human's. She can see every little furry creature running about the forest floor, and had she not been on such an important mission she might have taken the time to pause and test the limits of her vision.

One correct turn and she spots Derek, crouched low against the base of a tree, a quiver of arrows across is back, a loaded bow in hand. Odette falters. Could it be that _Derek_ is one of the hunters she has to worry about? Doubt nags at her, reminding her that he would never recognize her as she is.

 _But that's the point!_ He has to follow her. If he can get to the lake, see what happens when the moon rises, well...It'll all be worth it then.

He ducks behind a tree. Odette thinks he might have seen her. _Perfect._

But then he swings around, bow loaded and ready-

 _-aiming at her-_

 _\- "This one's for Odette!"-_

 _-Derek, it's me!-_

 _-_ and lets the arrow fly.

Odette watches it spin. _That's not-he wouldn't-he couldn't-_ She's cold. She's numb. She's watching her own demise at the tip of an arrow fired by her own love.

She's knocked sideways. She's flying on shaky wings, barely responding wings, with Puffin at her side. She's watching the ground move quickly while her mind has frosted over.

There's no time to think, no time to process, no time to fly, no time to stop. She's moving because her body is responding on its own. She is no longer in control. Her joints are stiff with cold but continue to move, a frozen, rusty hinge on a well-worn door.

She's not thinking about the plan. Not the lake, not the moon, not Puffin's brazenly attempted comedic relief, not Rothbart. Just Derek. The slow burn in his eyes, the fury, the hurt, the need for vengeance in his voice. Her wings lock, she drops, then rises and keeps gliding.

 _He shot at me. He shot at me. He tried to kill me. He's trying to kill me. Why? Why is shooting at me? Why is he trying to kill me?_

She needs to land. She needs to stop. A tree. A lake. Anything, anything! She's shaking too much, she's choking, she's falling- _Puffin, help me! Help me!_

Puffin tries to get her to slow. She doesn't.

Another arrow flies.

Odette honks, honks again. It draws attention. It makes her feel better-it doesn't-it does-he's shooting at her-she's flying into the sun-it's setting-he's _gone-she's running out of time_

 _-_ _ **he's going to kill her.**_

Why is Puffin faking his death?

 _Help me! Help me! I need the lake!_

 _ **Get me home.**_

Is he following? She doesn't care. She's missing feathers. She's sick. Her heart hurts. Her stomach hurts. Everything hurts.

She crashes into the lake.

The moon rises.

She doesn't want to change. Derek tried to kill her, he's _still_ trying to kill her.

He's at the edge of the lake-

The moon is rising-

She doesn't have a choice-

She changes-

She's collapsed-

He's trying to touch her-

" _Don't."_

The forcefulness of her voice still him. She sees it in his eyes, he doesn't understand. Not yet? Not at all?

 _You tried to kill me._

 _He didn't mean it._

It doesn't matter. Whether he meant it or not, the fact remains that he _tried._ He _tried._

"Odette-"

"You shot at me."

"I-I didn't mean-"

"You tried to kill me-"

"I didn't know-"

"You tried. You tried." And she's in his arms, he's holding her. She fights- _Don't touch me, don't touch me!_ -he tries to calm her, and it works. Her head is in his shoulder, she's shaking. All the emotions she kept in check for a short flight that felt more like three days.

He's holding her, he's apologizing. She's fighting with herself, between wanting this closeness and wanting to push him away. It's a war waged until her legs give out and he has to carry her to land. And there, she explains everything, her words overlaid with flashes of the days events. She stumbles and trips and it's a mess but he somehow understands; she thinks she hears something about visiting the next night for a ball, and then she's shooing him away while Rathbart's raspy voice screams her name.

"I'll meet you," she promises. Is it real? What is she saying? These words aren't hers, are they? Is this her voice? Her decision?

She thinks so.

The rest of her doesn't.


End file.
